One in High Tower
The one in the high tower,
raising above the town's crest,
living separate from the rest,
what of this one in fortress sky?
Separation could be the quest
of someone living far above.
Yet they travel to our roads,
seeking comfort in group console.
They come and walk the streets,
familiar with the common ways.
Still the differences are apparent
when they and us interact.
Their outer form is similar,
the garments echo our own.
Mimicry is not enough
to blend in with the throng.
The land's language is pronounced
with a lilt not our own.
The words convey meaning clear,
yet we look for the unsaid.
Opinions contrast with our own,
ideas dyadic, swords crossed with words,
though in their defense the meek will say
we drew our blades first this day.
Before harsh opinion is released,
look to the skyline in the east.
There are more towers to be seen
outside this village of you and me.
Each belongs to a fellow,
young or old, male or female,
who seeks an audience with us here
in the common realm of the peers.
Common goals are just that,
shared interests towards an end.
Differences are little more
than goals of a different stroke.
We differ more than we are alike
each from a tower of our construct.
Some are taller, most are not,
yet they house diverse life paths.
The one in high tower, they are not alone.
We all live in towers of our own.
Separation is the norm,
and to this God begs for us to join.
Always differences will appear,
this is the magic of Muse's gift.
To live in a tower is our birth right,
to combine with others is heaven's quest.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160312.